


Marry Me

by honeyMellon



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 09:37:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/990491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyMellon/pseuds/honeyMellon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't love at first sight or anything dramatic like that. To be honest, I didn't even think that he was my type at first. Then I started to notice other things, and before I know it, I've fallen so deeply for him that I don't think I can ever reach the surface again. A Shower side-story. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marry Me

I don't remember when it happened.

It's one of those things that you just don't notice, you know? Take hair growth, for example. You don't  _see_  it growing, but the next thing you know, you need a haircut again.

Just like how, before I know it, I've fallen so deeply for him that I don't think I can ever reach the surface again.

We've known each other for a few years now. I met him through Ichi's man, and things just kind of progressed from there. It wasn't love at first sight or anything dramatic like that. To be honest, I didn't even think that he was my type at first - his body a little too skinny, limbs a little too long and bony, hair style too feminine, lips too thin - but somehow, on him, all of that just...works. And then I started to notice other things. Little things, like how he has the habit of chewing on his lower lip when he's anxious, how he likes to twirl his long blond hair between his fingers. He prefers to sleep on his stomach, and he doesn't snore. He showers in the morning, brushes his teeth three times a day, and has the obsessive need to wash his hands every time he touches a door knob.

He is, in short, truly one of a kind, and I love him with all my heart and soul. And today, I'm going to tell him that I'm ready to be his pillar, to be the steady rock in his life that he can count on no matter what, for as long as I shall live - if he'll let me.

I have everything planned out. He has a project on the other side of the city so I know he won't be back for a while, but I don't want to take my chances. I leave Urahara's early so that I can buy him a bouquet of his favorite roses, then I hurry back to our apartment, where I chill a bottle of champagne in the fridge and defrost a packet of chicken breast. I'm going to make us dinner, and then after dinner, I will kneel in front of him.

Simple. Straight forward. Nothing fancy, but I'm putting my heart out there, and I hope he'll see that and say yes.

I'd be lying if I say that I'm not afraid, but I also know that he is nothing like his brother.

Three hours later, I'm in front of the stove when I hear the jingle of keys at the door, then it swings open and he steps inside. He looks tired, but his face lights up when he takes a long sniff of grilled chicken in the air. Smiling, he saunters up to me and wraps his hands around my waist from behind.

"Thanks," he murmurs, nuzzling my shoulder. "It smells really good."

I chuckle as a loud growl from his stomach reaffirms the fact. He laughs with me, burying his nose in my neck as he does so. I shudder involuntarily when his breath tickles me, a reaction that he catches at once. He goes still, only to let out a soft, gentle breath on the back of my neck two seconds later. The warm, moist puff of air caresses my skin lightly, tickling it again, and just like that, I feel myself becoming hard.

"Ilforte..." I groan as he does it again, this time following up with a kitten-like lick on the shell of my ear. "S-stop...dinner..."

He ignores me in favor of tugging on my earlobe with his teeth, and then he laves his tongue over it and sucks on it, playing with it as though he's French kissing my ear. The sensation sends a jolt of heat to my loins, and I drop the spatula into the saucepan as I turn around to steer his mouth towards mine. His tongue darts out to swipe over my lips, ripping a moan from me, then he angles his head and deepens the kiss. My hands travel down from his face to his hips and finally to his firm, well-toned buttocks. I squeeze gently.

He moans into my mouth and pulls me towards him so that we're pressed flush against each other. His clothed erection rubs against mine, and we both let out soft hisses at the same time. I break the kiss to look at him; taking in the delicate tint of pink on his cheeks, the half lidded eyes that peer back at me under fans of blonde lashes, and my favorite: his wet, kiss-swollen lips.

I know that if we don't stop, we won't be having dinner, so I push him away with a chuckle and turn back to the stove, only to be yanked back around forcefully. He grins at me, his eyes gleaming with mischief and want, and I decide just then that dinner can wait. I slip a hand behind my back to turn off the stove, then I pull him in for a fierce, possessive embrace.

He yelps in surprise when I lift him up easily, his fingernails scraping my back in his attempt to steady himself. Laughing and half stumbling, half shuffling, we somehow manage to reach our bed unharmed. I drop him onto it with a lecherous grin, one that widens even further when he props himself up on his elbows and curls his finger in a come-hither fashion, his lips quirking into a seductive smirk that instantly sets my body on fire.

He moans my name in a shaky voice when I shove him down roughly and attack his neck, licking a wet trail from his collarbone all the way up to his jaw. Keeping my eyes closed, I reach for his wrists and pin them to the bed, knowing that he gets a rush from having his movements restricted. The heat in my belly flares as he jerks his hips up and begins to grind against me shamelessly.

"Renji, hurry..." he whispers urgently, breaths coming in rapid pants.

He twists his hands within my grasp, but instead of letting go, I yank them over his head and hold them there. Leaving one hand to keep him positioned under me, I let my other hand wander down his sides, rubbing circles over his slender torso and prominent hip bone. He grunts in frustration when I shift my lower body away from him, stealing the sweet friction that he has been enjoying by rubbing against me.

"Don't be such a...fucking tease!" he grinds out, sounding almost angry. He's sweating now, his long hair sticking to his face, eyes wild with lust and the frantic need for release.

Finally deciding that I've tormented him long enough, I let go of his hands and brace for impact. As soon as he realizes that he's free, he pounces on me with a growl, knocking me off of him and sending me rolling under him. He grabs my hair and crushes our mouths together violently, the kiss wet and sloppy and full of tongue and teeth. With a grunt, I slip my foot between his legs and flip us over so that I have him pinned beneath me once again.

This time, we both know that playtime is over.

He chokes out my name when I enter him in a swift but controlled thrust, his muscles yielding to the familiar invasion. I let out a long, drawn out moan and bury my face into his neck before pulling out and sheathing myself to the hilt again, this time wringing a loud, breathless cry from his lips. All I see and hear and feel is him - the needy moans that he breathes into my ear, the way he tugs on my hair and begs me to go harder, faster - and I quickly lose myself in the race to bring us both to completion.

The moment pleasure crests, he lets out a hoarse, strangled groan and tightens his hold on me, his nails digging painfully into my upper arms and his back arching off the mattress for a brief second. His legs clenches around my waist to keep me inside as he rides out his climax, his pulsing muscles clamping down on my cock and ripping all my energy from me. I manage a handful of short, shallow thrusts before following in his wake, and then I slump over him, our sweaty foreheads pressed together as we struggle to regain our breaths.

Floating in the high of my release and overcome by a sudden rush of emotions, I end up ruining my own plan. Propping myself up on my elbows, I place a peck on his lips and murmur, "Marry me, Ilforte."

He goes still beneath me, so still that it seems like he has stopped breathing altogether. A wave of panic seizes me.

"No, wait!" He grabs my wrist as I try to sit up.

I breathe heavily, chest aching from disappointment and hurt. It was too soon, he isn't ready, he doesn't want to be tied down, I'm not good enough...all the possibilities that I've been dreading swirl in my mind and I become so sickened by them that I didn't snap back to reality until he slaps me across the face.

"You idiot!" he yells. "That's not what I meant!"

I blink dumbly at him, confused. He gives me an exasperated look and smacks his own forehead.

"Ugh, you've ruined it all!" he says dejectedly.

I feel even more dismayed; my first thought being that he meant I ruined our relationship by pushing him into more commitment. I think he must've realized what I'm thinking, because he smacks his forehead again and climbs off the bed. I watch him shuffle over to his dresser and open one of the drawers. He rummages around for a while, and when he turns back to me, a navy blue box is sitting on his palm.

A navy blue  _ring_  box, to be exact.

I know, because I have an almost-identical one hidden away in one of the kitchen drawers so that I can retrieve it easily after dinner.

"Ha," I blurt, too surprised to say anything more intelligent.

He pouts petulantly. " _Now_  do you understand what I meant?" he asks, eyeing the box in his hand balefully. "I had everything planned, too."

"Me too," I say, chuckling.

He tries to glare at me but ends up dissolving into a fit of giggles. The absurdity of the situation finally sinks in for both of us, and we end up howling in laughter, clutching our stomachs as we fight for breath. I don't think I've ever felt so relieved in my life. I lose track of how long we rolled around the carpet, tears leaking from the corners of our eyes because this is so ridiculously funny.

And then, as the painful stich on my side starts to ebb, I pull him into my arms and hold his face in my hands.

"Seriously though," I say solemnly. "Will you marry me?"

"You idiot," he huffs with a look of disbelief. "Do you really have to ask?"

When I continue to stare seriously at him, he finally relents with a roll of his eyes. "Yes, you big oaf, of course I will," he replies with a smile.

* * *

**The End.**


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